


Red Zone

by wheel_pen



Series: Viridian Mal [35]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fish out of Water, Gen, Imprinting, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 19:26:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trip and Mal stray into the forbidden Red Zone while visiting a planet. This story is unfinished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Zone

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Viridians appear human, but are actually aliens who imprint on other people (Viridian or otherwise) and form a bond with them. They also live their entire life cycle in about six Earth years.
> 
> 2\. In each series, a different character is a Viridian, who was raised by mean Klingons on an outpost. An Enterprise crewmember is captured by the Klingons and they inadvertently form a bond with the Viridian, who helps them escape. Then they return to rescue the Viridian and bring them aboard the Enterprise. The Viridian homeworld is contacted and the Enterprise crew learn the Viridian will most likely die if they are sent away. So they end up staying on the Enterprise, and the crewmember has to adjust.
> 
> 3\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

Archer charged through the doors to Sickbay, adding to the uncharacteristically chaotic atmosphere. Phlox was calling out commands from behind a curtain at the far end of the room, each sending one of four or five assistants jogging out to retrieve ever more frightening pieces of equipment and vials of medicine. More disturbing was his Chief Engineer, who stood in the center of the room arguing with Liz Cutler and a second, much burlier medical assistant, demanding to see "him." And Archer was afraid he had a very good idea of who he was talking about.

"Commander Tucker, please, I need to examine you," Cutler tried to tell him reasonably. "Please just get on that biobed."

"I wanna see him! What are you doin' to him? Is he gonna be okay?" Trip shouted in response. Trip took half a step forward, pushing into Cutler's shoulder, and the large man beside her—Crewman Iverson, Archer recalled—moved to resolutely block Trip's path.

Cutler saw the Captain over Trip's shoulder and her expression became slightly relieved, which Archer took as his cue to intervene. "Trip," he began firmly, placing a hand on his friend's arm.

Trip spun to face him, eyes wide, and Archer saw the bloody scrape near his temple, already swelling black and blue. He grabbed the front of Archer's uniform suddenly. "I gotta see him, Jon," he begged.

Archer glanced quickly at Cutler, who shook her head once. "The doctor needs to help him first, Trip," Jon replied, his voice deliberately calm. He gripped the engineer's upper arms firmly. "You need to let Liz help you now." Jon guided him towards the biobed and pushed him up on it, meeting little resistance. The fight seemed to have left Trip and he slumped forward when Jon tried to step back out of Cutler's way; Archer had to hurriedly prop him up again.

"How is he?" Archer insisted after the woman had run her hand scanner over Trip's injury.

"Not bad," she replied tightly, sending Iverson off for supplies. "Just a bump, no concussion."

Archer felt safe in giving the sagging engineer a little shake. "Trip! Trip, you need to tell me what happened down there," he prompted. All he'd heard was the frantic emergency transport request from Trip moments earlier. "Are Marcus and Hoshi still there?" Trip shrugged, shook his head, turned away from Cutler's ministering hands to stare back at the drawn curtain. "Trip! Marcus and Hoshi! Where are they?"

"They weren't with us," Trip finally breathed, distracted. "Somewhere else. I gotta see him now."

He tried to slide off the biobed and Archer forcibly stopped him. "You're staying right where you are, and that's an order, Commander," the Captain replied. "Tell me what happened. Was anyone else hurt?"

"Yeah," Trip answered, staring at the deck plating, a million miles away. "There were three of them."

"Tell Commander T'Pol to give the authorities the transport coordinates. And Lt. Marcus," Archer ordered Cutler, who nodded and hurried off. He turned back to Trip, who was staring at the curtain again. The mysterious area behind it was less busy now, but no one had yet emerged with news. "Phlox will take good care of him, Trip," Jon assured his friend in a softer tone. "Now tell me what happened."

"There were three of them," Trip repeated dully. "Mal just—he jumped in—he didn't hesitate—before I could stop him—" Trip's expressive face crumpled up. "G-d, Jon, it was all my fault..."

Cutler appeared again. "I think I should give him a sedative, Captain," she suggested quietly.

"Not enough to knock him out," Archer told her, and she nodded. Because Archer still needed to know what the h—l had happened. Cutler reached the hypospray towards Trip's neck and he shied away from it—Archer had to hold him in place for her. "Take a deep breath," he instructed, and Trip nodded, lips tightly pressed together. Cutler's eyes flickered between Trip and the readings on the biobed. When she was satisfied with what she saw, she gave Archer a significant look and withdrew.

"Trip," the Captain encouraged, again.

"I just wanted to talk to him," Trip insisted, rubbing a hand over his face. "I had to get it back..."

"What, Trip?"

"Communicator," Trip replied tiredly. Archer took his shoulders and twisted him back to face him.

"What about the communicator, Trip?

"Pickpocket. Or mugger. Something," Trip continued vaguely. Archer wondered just how much sedative Cutler had given him. "He took it from my pocket in the crowd and started runnin'."

"And you chased him?" Archer surmised.

"Well, I had to get it back," Trip repeated. "Couldn't call Marcus, couldn't call the ship..." Archer decided he was going to rethink his policy of not giving Mal a communicator on away missions. He'd figured why risk Mal losing it, he was always with Trip anyway, and even if they got separated he could always find Trip on his own. Although Trip probably would have chased the pickpocket anyway, even if they still had one communicator between them.

"You chased him," Archer prompted. "You caught up with him."

"Yeah, him and his buddies," Trip replied darkly. At least he was sounding a little more lucid, Archer decided. And his eyes were clear, if damp, when he looked up at the Captain. "Jon, I never seen anything like it. First guy took a swing at me, Mal was in there. He wasn't just blocking, either, he was throwin' punches—I don't know where the h—l he learned it all." He sighed, leaning back, and Jon felt safe letting him go. "One guy pulled out a knife," Trip continued flatly, and Archer closed his eyes for just a moment. "I thought, that's it, we're gettin' out of here, I'll just wait for you to f----n' rescue us from some public comm station. Guess Mal wasn't thinkin' that." He shook his head. "I don't know where the h—l he learned it all," he repeated. "Where'd he learn to fight like that?"

Jon had the gist of it by now but was about to urge Trip to go on when Phlox stepped out from behind the curtain, drawing all of Trip's attention. The engineer spun on the biobed, jumping off on the other side. "Is he okay? Can I see him?" Archer came around just in case Trip needed to be discouraged from heading back there on his own.

"You cannot see him now, he's resting," Phlox informed them, and it was impossible to tell from his tone whether the outlook was favorable or not. "I will let you know when he wakes up."

Trip took another few steps forward anyway. Archer took his arm. "Is he gonna be okay?"

Phlox hadn't budged. "I believe he will make a complete recovery," he revealed, and Archer had to grab Trip's other arm to keep him from dropping to the floor in relief. "The stab wound was the most severe injury," Phlox went on, helping Archer put Trip back on the biobed. "Though he had a number of other contusions and sprains as well. He seems to have put up quite the fight," the doctor added, no doubt trying to sound soothing.

Trip chuckled dryly. "You shoulda seen the other guys," he added.

The comm sounded before Archer could respond to the odd remark and he reluctantly stepped away to answer it. "Archer here."

T'Pol's voice was cool and efficient as always. " _Captain, Lt. Marcus is calling from the site of the... incident._ "

"Put him through."

" _Captain?_ " Marcus's voice was loud, trying to be heard over the sirens in the background.

"Go ahead."

" _Are Commander Tucker and Mal alright?_ "

Archer glanced over at Trip, who still had a twisted grin on his face as he stared off into space. Phlox was scanning him again. "They will be. What's going on down there?"

" _I'm in an alley on the south side of the city, sir,_ " Marcus informed him. " _The city authorities are here as well. It's difficult to determine what happened—this isn't the friendliest neighborhood._ "

"I gather that," Archer agreed.

" _They're taking the body away now, sir._ "

Archer stared at the comm. "The body?"

In the background Trip started laughing again. There was more than a tinge of hysteria in it. "Shoulda seen the other guys," he repeated.

" _I heard the coroner say his throat was cut, sir,_ " Marcus continued. " _They picked up a knife at the scene._ "

Archer could hardly hear him over Trip's laughter. "I believe a sedative is in order," Phlox remarked clinically, reaching for a hypospray.

"Cutler already gave him some," Archer pointed out quickly.

"Oh, I think he could use a little more," Phlox replied, injecting Trip. Within seconds the engineer was out cold on the biobed. "Laughter is a common human reaction to stress, Captain," the doctor reminded him, seeing the expression on Archer's face. "I am certain Commander Tucker was not attempting to make light of the situation."

" _Captain?_ "

Archer had forgotten about Marcus. "Go back to the police station and find out who I can talk to about this," he ordered the security officer. "Both Trip and Mal are receiving medical attention on _Enterprise_ , if they ask. Where's Hoshi?"

" _She's here with me, sir,_ " Marcus assured him.

"Stay together," Archer ordered, probably unnecessarily. "I don't need anyone else getting into trouble down there."

" _Don't worry, sir,_ " Marcus answered. " _We're getting out of this area soon. The magistrate said not to stay in the Red Zone after dark._ "

Archer froze at the comm. "The Red Zone?"

" _Yes, sir,_ " Marcus agreed. "Hoshi's trying to get us a ride out with the police."

"G-------t," Archer hissed under his breath.

" _Sir?_ "

"Get back to the Blue Zone, Marcus," Archer commanded. "Call me when you're at the police headquarters."

" _Yes, sir. Out._ "

Archer turned and looked back at his unconscious Chief Engineer. Trip was d—n lucky he was out of reach of the Captain's temper at the moment. What part of _Do not go into the Red Zone under any circumstances_ did his crewman not understand? Trip said it himself; they could have used a public comm station to contact Marcus and Hoshi, or _Enterprise_. Or gone to a police station or the magistrate's office. H—l, with a little luck T'Pol could even have picked out their biosigns from the rest of the city's crowd. Instead Trip had to run off without thinking, right into the criminal sector of the city.

Archer glanced at the curtain at the back of the room. He knew Trip would be lacerating himself far more effectively than Archer ever could as soon as he woke up. He turned to Phlox. "Can _I_ see Mal? Just for a minute."

Phlox acquiesced and led Archer to the biobed separated from the rest of Sickbay. Mal looked small and pale on the bed, an aeration mask clamped over most of his bruised face and various tubes and wires connecting him to the equipment that hummed nearby. He remembered Mal throwing up gelatin that was too wobbly for him to eat, Mal dancing along to Astaire and Rogers movies, Mal crying because Trip wouldn't take him somewhere with him. He'd seen Mal throw himself off a catwalk to catch Trip, dive into the ocean when he was terrified of drowning, always heedless of the danger to himself when Trip was threatened.

"I just can't picture him getting into a fistfight," he admitted to Phlox. "Killing someone?"

Phlox twitched his head in that way he had that indicated the universe was full of strange and wondrous and terrible things. "The Viridians did say that the _ragnish_ would do anything to protect his _kaldin_ ," he reminded Archer gently. "Mal is devoted to Commander Tucker. And normally quite docile, as you know, Captain." Archer nodded slowly, still staring down at the sleeping figure. "I'm sure Mal was only doing what he thought he must."

Archer gave him a steely gaze. "I just hope the city authorities believe it was a case of self-defense," he remarked. If not... he didn't want to think about what would happen if Mal were arrested, held for trial. _Enterprise_ couldn't put her mission on hold for however long this planet's justice system took to operate. But he also couldn't just leave, turning Mal into a fugitive from justice... that wasn't the image he was charged with presenting of humanity.

And somehow, Archer knew that if he were forced to leave Mal behind in police custody, even temporarily—he would be leaving his Chief Engineer behind as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it just ends there!


End file.
